by Ana Novak
Said eyes were attached to a clean-cut, handsome man who towered over me by a good three inches, even with my heels on. As I stared at him, speechless, he offered an awkward smile and looked down, allowing his sandy hair to flop over his forehead.
“Happy to help with a drink?” Mistral said, recovering sooner than the rest of us. “Baby, you are heaven sent.”
“My friends and I were actually wondering if you ladies would like to join us for dinner,” he said, looking at me again. He held out his hand. “I’m Chris.”
I hesitated for a beat too long before taking his hand. “Taylor. Nice to meet you, Chris.”
“Who and where are your friends?” Mel asked, the voice of reason as per usual.
“Right over there,” Chris said. He motioned at the guys near the food truck that I’d noticed earlier, and I allowed myself a moment to fangirl over how adorably he made little finger guns when he pointed. His friends all perked up and smiled at us, looking hopeful, eager, and so very young.
“Are you legal?” I said doubtfully, and despite myself, I was twirling the end of my ponytail around my finger, both intrigued and repulsed by the idea of getting picked up by a younger man. Nonetheless, I tried to play it cool. “I’m not sure I have the energy to hang with the under-21 crowd tonight.”
“The drinking age is eighteen in Tahiti,” Chris said. He caught my hand and gently pulled me toward the food truck. “And take my word for it. I’m old enough.” He winked.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Mistral pushed me along with a hand on my lower back, and I looked over at Mel, who was dutifully following along, probably hoping she hadn’t been recognized yet.
His friends all introduced themselves, but I was so taken aback by Chris’s perplexing interest in me that I didn’t catch any of their names. The three of them had a table staked out already outside a pop-up bar, with the fourth member of their party holding their spot while the other guys had gone to get food. We gave our drink orders to the waitress before turning our attention to dinner.
“What do you want to eat?” Mel asked me.
“Galette,” I said immediately. “Pineapple stuffed.”
“Leave it to me,” one of the guys- Brad? Brett?- said. “I know where La Boule Rouge is.”
“I’m glad one of us does,” Mel said. “Brent-” Aha! Brent! “-You show me where it is. Taylor, you stay here and wait for our drinks.”
“Yes, Mama,” I answered, and grinned when she stuck out her tongue at me.
“So, Taylor,” Chris said from where he’d strategically positioned himself in the plastic chair beside me. I turned to face him, and he continued, “What do I have to do to get you to stick with me tonight?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious,” he said, looking completely nonplussed by my incredulity. “I saw you across the square and knew I had to meet you. I need to stake my claim early, or you might go for one of my buddies.”
“You don’t believe in subtlety, do you?”
“Not when I’m sitting at a table with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said, and the frankness of his words was so jarring that all I could do was laugh. He was as direct as Shane, but without the smooth delivery I’d come to expect.
“I’m sure I’m old enough to be your…” I thought about it. “…Older sister, at least. How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen,” Chris replied. “Thanks for asking. Fortunately my parents taught me manners, so I know better than to ask you how old you are.”
Ah. “I’m sorry to be bitchy,” I said. “You caught me by surprise, that’s all.” I pushed Shane out of my mind and smiled at Chris. “Do you like dancing? Because if you like dancing, then I will happily dance the night away with you after dinner.”
“I dance like a white guy,” he said honestly. “But I’ll give it a shot. And speaking of shots…” The waitress was just putting down our drinks, and with the cocktails and beers that we’d ordered were a round of shot glasses filled with clear liquor- obviously Mistral’s doing.
I picked up my ginger margarita and took a tentative sip. Next to me, Chris chugged a Hinano, and I watched him, trying to hide my smile at his youthful enthusiasm.
“So tell me about you,” I said when he’d finally paused to take a breath. “Where are you from?”
“Massachusetts,” he said. “Boston.”
I watched Mistral, shaking my head. She was seated across from me at the round table. We’d only been here a few minutes and she already had two of the guys hanging on her every word. I turned back to Chris. “Don’t tell me you’re in college.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you,” he said with a devilish grin.
“Oh god, Harvard?” After Dave, I was not feeling particularly chummy towards either lawyers or law students.
“Northeastern,” Chris said. “I’m majoring in biochemistry.”
“So you’re smart?”
“That’s what they tell me.” Chris leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the back of my chair, and surveyed me. “You’re really not into me, are you?”
Ouch. I didn’t have to fake my surprise. “What makes you say that?”
"You know what. So what am I doing wrong? You should be liking me. I’m charming, damn it.”
“You are,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. I guess- I don’t know, I guess your age just kind of shook me.”
“You’ve never dated a younger guy?”
“We’re not dating,” I corrected him reflexively. “But no, I’ve never had drinks with a younger guy.”
“Live a little. You’re on vacation.” He took another swig of his beer.
I considered his words. I’d come here to have fun with my girlfriends, not to pine over Shane and push away a perfectly nice guy who wanted to get to know me better. “You’re right. Let’s dance.”
“What about our table? Our drinks?”
“Mistral will take care of it!” I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the music stand, where a funky reggae band was playing.
It took me less than a minute to figure out that Chris hadn’t been lying with his assessment of his dancing skills, but fortunately he knew his comfort zone and didn’t try to venture outside of it. The current song was fast enough that I didn’t need much encouragement. I let him spin me once and then settled into an easy back and forth rhythm, our fingers still intertwined.
“Get down, girlfriend!” Mistral crowed, popping up beside me with both of her boy toys in tow.
“Hey, what about our table?” I asked, turning to look. Mel was seated there, chatting with Brent. She actually looked happy, and I glanced back at Mistral, who shrugged before shimmying backwards to grind against one of the guys.
We danced until the song ended, and Chris and I headed back to the table so I could eat my pineapple galette.
“Mel says you’re from New York,” Brent said after I took my first bite.
I chewed quickly, looking at Mel. She gave me a slight head shake. Brent didn’t know who she was, which was crazy because these guys were exactly the demographic that was usually obsessed with Mel Archer.
I swallowed. “Yeah. Brooklyn.”
“And you’re a writer?”
“Yep.”
“Anything I would have read?”
I looked at Mel again, identifying with her for the first time as a quasi-celebrity. My entire life revolved around work, and I didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Nothing big,” I said dismissively. “Are you a student at Northeastern too?”
“Harvard,” Brent said, and I choked on my margarita. Chris pounded me on the back as I coughed into my napkin.
“That’s nice,” I said diplomatically, and Mel started giggling.
Brent looked back and forth from Mel to me, a confused smile on his face. “I’m missing something big here, aren’t I.”
“Where’d you go to college?” Chris asked me, trying to change the subject. He’d caught
my Harvard dig earlier.
“I went to NYU.”
“Major?”
“Recorded Music.”
His eyebrows went up. “That’s something you use as a writer, I’m sure.”
“I was young,” I replied. “Music sounded fun. I also thought about becoming a chef, but obviously that didn’t work out for me. Although I do appreciate good food. ” I popped the last bite of my galette into my mouth and chewed blissfully.
“I appreciate a woman who appreciates good food,” Chris said, and I rolled my eyes.
“What’s your alma mater?” Brent asked Mel, obviously intent on continuing the most boring conversation known to man.
“Juilliard,” she said dismissively, and took another sip of her drink. “When are we going to get these shots going?”
“Now, I hope,” I said, and reached out for my shot glass. “What are we drinking to? New friends?”
“Drinking with beautiful women,” Chris chimed in.
“Drinking with beautiful people,” Mel corrected him.
“That’s it,” Brent said, snapping his fingers. He raised his shot. “To drinking with beautiful people. We are lucky as hell, man.”
“Tell me about it,” Chris said, clinking glasses before downing his shot.
The liquor burned my throat on the way down, and I thought of the shots Mistral had foisted on me at J85. That had been my first night with Shane since moving back to New York. My cheeks heated at the memory, and I grabbed my margarita, taking a long drink to distract myself.
“There’s a club just down the street from here,” Chris was saying. “It’s disco themed.”
Mel straightened up, and I knew he’d caught her attention. “Disco themed?” she said, and tapped a finger on her chin, looking slyly at me. “Oh, Taylor, this I absolutely must see.”
“I don’t know. Can we tear Mistral and her harem away from the music here?” I asked, looking over my shoulder. Mistral was dancing, sandwiched between the two guys and looking like she was having the time of her life. “They’re in a world of their own.”
“Is she always like this?” Brent asked, sounding amused.
“You mean do men always fall at her feet?” I asked, and glanced over at Mel.
“Always,” we said in unison. Mistral could have her choice of any man on the planet, but despite all her talk, she had yet to show genuine interest in a single one of them.
Mel went to go get Mistral, and Chris held up one of the remaining shot glasses, grinning. “Shall we?” he said.
“We shall,” I agreed, taking it from him. “To disco!” Chris, Brent, and I clinked glasses and downed the shots that had originally been meant for Mistral and the other two guys. I didn’t think they’d care.
By the time we’d wrangled the dancers into heading down the boulevard to Chris’s disco club, the alcohol had relaxed me significantly, and I was beginning to feel a little better about this outing. Although Mistral usually picked up a stray or two every time we went out, I had expected tonight to be more of a girls’ night. Mel seemed to be enjoying herself, though, which was all that mattered. I saw Brent slide his arm around her shoulders while they were walking in front of me, and she ducked out of it, shoving him playfully.
“Are you seeing anybody back in New York?” Chris asked me. He’d been walking silently beside me, watching Mel and Brent’s antics as well.
“I’m seeing a lot of people,” I said, raising my hands in feigned confusion. “My editor, my brother, my dad, the lesbians on the fourth floor…”
“I mean are you dating anyone,” he clarified, and intercepted my hand to lace his fingers through mine.
“Why? Are you dating anybody in Boston?”
“I’m not dating anybody right now,” he said. “But like I said, I saw you…”
“And you knew you had to stake your claim,” I finished for him. “If you’re asking if I have a boyfriend, the answer is no. I do have an ex-husband, though.”
Chris snapped his fingers, looking triumphant. “He’s a lawyer, right?”
“How did you know?”
“I knew there was a reason you were pissed about Harvard. Did he go there?”
“To Harvard? No, he went to NYU. But he was always talking about how great Harvard was and how he would have gotten in there if he’d had better connections.” I grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about him. Tell me more about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you have a job?”
“I live off my rich parents.” He grinned at me.
“You say that without even a hint of irony or shame,” I said admiringly.
“Why deny it? They want me to focus on college, and I do. This vacation was a birthday present from them.”
“For turning nineteen?” I couldn’t imagine a trip to Tahiti as a birthday present. Even my dad, who wasn’t at all stingy with his money, wouldn’t have paid for something so extravagant.
“For turning twenty tomorrow. Or tonight, in a few hours.”
I stopped walking. “Wait. Tomorrow is your birthday?”
Chris turned to face me, not letting go of my hand. “The big two-oh.”
“Tomorrow’s your twentieth birthday and you want to spend tonight with me?”
He took a step closer, so close I could have stood on tiptoe to kiss him if I’d wanted to. “Did you miss the ‘I had to stake my claim’ part of our conversation?”
“I…” I swallowed. “I did not.”
“Then doesn’t it make sense I’d want to spend tonight with you?”
I eyed him suspiciously. “I guess so.”
“Come on, you lovebirds,” Mel called back to us. I glared at her, but started walking again.
“Happy birthday,” I said finally. “I should have bought your drink for you.”
“Kiss me at midnight and we’ll call it even,” Chris said.
He was still holding my hand, and I felt my cheeks flush. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he was just looking for a vacation fling, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that kissing Chris, and even just holding hands with him in the street, was some sort of betrayal. I looked down at our linked hands, and thought about Shane lying on the bed beside me, telling me that he’d already promised not to break my heart.
Fortunately, at that moment Mistral stumbled in front of me, and I tore my hand free from Chris’s to run up and grab her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m always fabulous, girlie,” she said, smoothing down her hair with one hand. “But these stilettos weren’t made for walking.”
“Should’ve worn boots,” I said. “UGGs would have totally completed that ensemble.”
“These boys would be running screaming the other direction,” she whispered, and we both giggled.
“Hey,” I said, glancing over my shoulder and smiling at Chris, who was now chatting animatedly with Mistral’s tag-alongs. “I have a little bit of an issue.” I looked back at Mistral just in time to see her rolling her eyes.
“Allow me,” she said with exaggerated patience. “You left the hotel ready for a hookup with a hottie, and now that there’s actually a man who wants to take you up on the offer, you’re reconsidering because you’re desperately in love with Shane Kruger.”
“I- um, wow,” I said, impressed. “You really nailed that. Except for the desperately in love part. But yeah. The rest of it.”
“And now you want me to rescue you from your bad choices.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder, preening as if there were a mirror in front of her.
“I’m trying to save myself from making any bad choices,” I said defensively. “But tomorrow is Chris’s birthday. He wants me to kiss him at midnight.”
“Oh. I see.” Mistral looked back, a predatory gleam in her eye. “I can handle him for you, if you want.”
“Oh my god, can you? I would love you forever.”
“You’ll love me forever anyway,” she said. “We west coast girls command adoration.” With t
hat, she disengaged her arm from mine and spun, training her megawatt smile on Chris. “I hear someone’s a birthday boy!”
I watched in rapt fascination as Chris blinked, blindsided by the full force of Mistral Tremarco on a mission. She ducked under his arm and placed one hand on his chest, looking up at him from underneath her thick eyelashes. Just like that, he was gone, grinning like a fool as he refocused every bit of his attention onto her.
“Smooth,” a voice commented from my right, and I turned to see Brent and Mel standing there.
“She is, isn’t she?” Mel said, shaking her head. “Men can be so predictable.”
“Except for me,” Brent said. “I’m not interested in joining the harem. You’re stuck with me.”
“That I’m perfectly okay with,” Mel said. “As long as your boyfriend is okay with us hanging out with you all night.”
“Are you kidding? He’ll love bragging to everyone about how I spent my Tahiti vacation clubbing with Mel Archer and Taylor Merrick.”
My jaw dropped, and I smacked his arm. “You do know who we are!”
“I’m not as dense as my friends,” he said with a wink. “Now are we going dancing or what?”
“Let’s go dancing,” I said, relieved as I took his arm. Clubbing with a gay guy was infinitely preferable to fending off the advances of a twenty year old college student all night. We headed into the club together, with Mel throwing me a sly grin behind Brent’s back as we walked through the door.
We danced, and drank, and danced, and drank some more. As the night progressed, Mel seemed to relax, letting go of her fear of possibly being recognized and flirting more and more with Brent. When my feet began to hurt, I told them to go off to the dance floor on their own, and I sat, watching my friends from the comfort of a bar stool as I rubbed a sore spot on my heel.
Mistral was perched on the other end of the bar, Chris and two of his friends seated around her. She was talking animatedly, only pausing to bite off a cherry that one of them dangled in front of her nose. She saw me watching and smiled slyly. I smiled back, unbelievably grateful that she’d helped me out of a tough situation.